


Bitch For the Night

by ariapassionflower01



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Anal Fisting, Humiliation, M/M, PWP, Switching, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariapassionflower01/pseuds/ariapassionflower01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill had been being a real bitch to Tom lately, but calling him one... well, that wasn't a very good idea...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitch For the Night

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first story with fisting. I was asked to do it by a gal over on THF and I'd never thought about it before. But now I really like this story, so I hope you do too!

It started out like lots of fights they'd had, although Tom thought that this time around, they were really too fucking old to be doing this. It was the fourth album for God's sakes, the second they'd co-produced, and shouldn't Bill be more mature about compromises by now?

They were really getting down to crunch time, and the fact that he and Bill could not agree on this particular line of music got under Tom's skin like nothing else had in a long time. They had been working non-stop for so many months, practically running themselves ragged to make everything perfect, and now Bill had to suddenly become a bitchy, little diva about one line of music – one fucking line!

Tom didn't want it to sound like that. Bill wanted it to sound like this.

Tom wouldn't give in. Bill kept pushing.

It had all been pretty relaxed in the studio before Bill suddenly decided he didn't like it anymore, and Tom protested that he shouldn't be allowed to make an executive decision like that, because it was really Tom's part of the song anyways. Bill wasn't even singing. That was the point where it all really blew up, because when it comes to Bill no part of the song isn't his part – it all is.

A few words were flung back and forth to the astounded faces of their band members and production team before Tom decided to end it, and shout, “You're being a fucking diva bitch, Bill, and I'm done with it today!” With that, he stormed out of the studio, slammed the door behind him and went straight to his Audi – the one he and Bill had ridden in together – and left. Yeah, he fucking left Bill behind and it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but he did it anyways because he knew it would make Bill even angrier.

When Bill arrived home hours later, he was still steamed. Tom was on the couch, watching TV and texting like a petulant teenager when Bill walked in the door. He passed by and Tom caught Bill's utterly pissed off expression and sank back to the cushions. It was one thing to argue in the studio and it was another to argue at home. Tom had no qualms about duking it out while everyone was watching their pissing contest, but once they were in their own four walls, his ego shrank to the size of walnut. Maybe, it was because that was how it had been for so long. Hiding the truth about their relationship had never been easy, and the characters they played for the cameras sometimes even got played for their friends and family. The fact remained that when they were alone, Tom was, and always had been, a sucker for his little brother.

He heard Bill go upstairs and move around for a few minutes, probably changing into more comfortable clothes, before he came back down. He had Pumba cradled in one arm and he cooing softly to the little dog as he went to the kitchen.

Tom rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. Bill was paying more attention to that damn dog than he was to Tom because he was ticked off about their fight.

Tom rose from the couch and shuffled to the kitchen. He came to stand in the doorway and bashfully watched his brother as he prepared some leftover pasta. Bill ignored him and sat down at the island counter stool with Pumba on his lap as he began to eat.

He had changed into a loose pair of sweatpants that still managed to make his tiny ass enticing and a tank top that was tattered from years of use. The neck and the arm holes had been sheared to Bill's liking and a good amount of his smooth, tattooed, and LA tanned skin was visible. Even in his anger, he was damn beautiful, and Tom still had the urge to take him right over the counter. That wouldn't be happening, however, if Tom didn't do one little thing.

There was silence for a good two minutes before Tom sighed at last, “I'm sorry.” He muttered.

Bill stopped eating, but he was still staring at his plate, stiffly. At last, he lifted dark, accusing eyes and asked, “What was that, Tom? I don't think I heard you.”

Tom huffed and crossed his arms. “You fucking heard me, Bill.”

Bill shrugged one slim, muscled shoulder, his pierced eyebrow flicking upward, “Okay, so are you sorry for yelling at me? Calling me a bitch? Or leaving me at the studio without a ride.” The last sentence was said through clenched teeth and he was glaring at Tom.

Pumba whined from Bill's arms, as if sensing the tension. He looked up at Bill and pawed as his chest before nuzzling him. Well, Tom could see who's side the dog was on.

Bill stroked him and bent his head to kiss him between his ears, murmuring German endearments in his ear.

Tom let out a frustrated sound. Bill didn't want to talk to him right now, and it was obvious he wasn't ready to accept his apology. This was worse than he imagined, and the fact that Bill's little tank top had pretty much turned him the fuck on made it so much worse.

Bill looked up at last, “Well?” He asked.

Tom ground his teeth. “All of it.” He forced out.

“Okay,” He shrugged, carelessly in response, “But I'm definitely not _your_ bitch tonight.”

Tom's mouth dropped open. Bill was denying him sex? All for some stupid little spat over a dumb piece of music?

“What?” Bill asked. “Don't look so shocked, Tom.”

“But...” Tom began, before cutting off, and shaking his head, “No. No, this doesn't warrant-”

“It warrants whatever I want.” Bill snapped, jumping down from the stool and setting Pumba down to stride over to Tom with his full strength and height.

“What is your fucking problem?” Tom shouted at last, too tired, frustrated, and sexually deprived to get a fucking grip.

“My problem?” Bill repeated. “My problem is that maybe I just want to get some sleep tonight.”

“God, what are you? A fucking woman?” Tom asked, throwing out his hands. “Are you on your period or something?”

Bill's face went red like a flip had switched, and before Tom knew it the entire side of his face was stinging from the force of Bill's slap. He staggered back, his cheek and pride having taken a blow.

“I'm an not a fucking woman, Tom Kaulitz.” Bill hissed. “And I am not on my fucking period.”

Tom cradled his face, cringing under Bill's wrath. “Okay, fine.” He gritted out. “But you're sure as hell acting like it.” He turned to leave the room, maybe to find some solitude in which to jack off to the remnants of arousal that still lingered, before falling asleep.

“Okay, fine.” Bill mimicked to his back. “But you better get your head out of your ass or I might just stay 'on my period' for a little while longer!”

Tom threw up his middle finger, but didn't look back. “Yeah, fuck you.” He muttered, just wishing he could.

 

~

 

Tom was sure that it was a dream that Bill was in his room. At least he was certain that part of it was. He had been having a delightful wet dream about Bill going down on him when awoke suddenly.

He rolled over, wincing as the sheets tugged tight over his growing erection. That was a minor worry, however, when he glanced over the room with bleary eyes to see the figure across the room. Tom blinked a couple of times before the image of Bill undressing quietly came into focus.

He stripped off the those delectable sweatpants and that tank top, leaving his sculpted body beautiful bare.

Tom closed his eyes as far as he could while still being able to see as Bill approached the bed. He stood a few feet away and Tom fought the urge to a make a sound as he slowly touched himself. He gathered the hardening flesh in his palm, rubbing up and down a few times as he filled up with hot, gushing blood.

He stepped closer to the bed and Tom closed his eyes all the way, trying not to breath to heavily as he felt the bed tip slightly with Bill's weight. He was so close that he could feel his body heat and when he felt Bill's lips touch his cheek, he could hardly contain himself.

“I know you're awake.” Bill murmured and Tom felt his lips curve against his cheek.

Tom let out a breath, and opened his eyes. Of course, Bill knew he was awake. He was breathing loud enough to wake the dead and he had an erection stabbing through the sheets.

He looked up at Bill, and tried to figure out why he was getting in bed with him after their fight. When Bill sank down over him, however, he didn't protest. Bill kissed him with soft, sweet lip, and undulating against him, rubbing the length of his naked cock along Tom's still clothed one.

Tom moaned softly and reached up to grab at him, intending to roll them and put Bill on the bottom. Bill resisted, batting his hands away. He surprised Tom by grabbing his wrists and pinning them down above his head. The dominant move sent a shudder down Tom's spine, causing his stomach to flip over.

It was only every few weeks that Tom bottomed and he couldn't say that he loved it, but neither could he claim that he hated either.

“I said I wasn't your bitch tonight.” Bill said, gazing down at him from his position above.

Tom swallowed hard, because that could only mean one scenario. He should've seen this coming the moment Bill denied him in the kitchen.

Bill slid off of him, sitting back on the bed. He cast Tom a hot, but steely gaze. “Turn over.” He said simply.

“But, Bill...” Tom began, although he knew it was useless.

“Turn. Over. Now.” Bill repeated in a commanding tone.

Tom's heart began to race, his stomach swimming with an almost sickly feeling. His limbs felt weak as he rolled over onto his stomach. He waited tensely as Bill pulled the sheets back, leaving him quivering and vulnerable on the mattress.

Bill's fingers tickled his sides before he hooked them in the waistband of Tom's boxers and pulled them down. Tom lifted his hips weakly and felt Bill yank away the last protective barrier.

“Spread.” Bill ordered, giving his inner thigh a smack.

Tom flinched, but did as he was told. Arousal and dread swirled in his gut, a combination he couldn't quite grasp. As soon and Bill settled between his legs, Tom wanted to pull them back together again, but it was too late now.

Bill reached over him and took the lube from the bedside table where it always rested and Tom bit his lower lip to hold back a whine. He knew what was coming next, and it was maybe the most torturous part of this whole thing.

Bill uncapped the lube and the next time he touched him, his fingers were slick with it. He cupped one of Tom's buttocks, spreading him open, as he stroked his fingers down his cleft. Tom whined and arched away from Bill's wet fingertips. His face was blazing already with embarrassment but underneath him, his cock was throbbing. He didn't want to want this, but he did and his body was reacting far too quickly to Bill's touch.

Bill gripped his ass harder, and plunged his fingers between Tom's taut cheeks, rubbing the tight hole until Tom groaned and relaxed under him. He panted against the pillow, quivering already as Bill swirled his wet fingers around his entrance, creating a slick mess before his middle finger zeroed in on the tiny crevice. He probed at it, coaxing Tom to open enough for even a single digit. Tom bit down on his lower lip as Bill pressed his finger into him. He squeezed his eyes shut at the intrusion, the strange yet somehow arousing sensation of something going into him.

“God...” He moaned out at last as Bill's finger squirmed into him until it was submerged up to his knuckle. “Bill...”

“Open up for me, Tomi.” Bill whispered, pulling his finger out, only to push it back in.

“Fuck..” Tom choked over his own breath at Bill's voice in his ear. He moaned and pressed his face into the mattress as Bill pumped his finger into him, over and over. He could hardly relax, however, and he couldn't stop his muscles from squeezing.

“Get up.” Bill said at last.

“What?” Tom panted.

“Get your ass up.” Bill repeated. “On your knees.”

“Bill, please... don't...” Tom whispered, hiding his face in the pillow. Bill was going to make this ten times more humiliating by putting him in that position and he didn't want to fucking do it.

“Tom, come on,” Bill took his hip and urged him up until Tom grudgingly got his knees under him, his ass raised for Bill's fingers and cock. “There now...” Bill murmured, his finger sinking into him again. Tom moaned as Bill quickly paired his middle finger with his index, and pressed them both in. “You're more open this way.” Bill whispered to him, making Tom's stomach ache with arousal, a sharp knife of need slicing its way through him.

He heard Bill add more lube and wet sounds only made it more visceral. Bill two fingers pushed into his tight space that still clenched despite his position and he heard Bill make a sound of pleasure.

“You're still really tight.” He murmured, one hand stroking down Tom's buttock. His thumb trailed down his cleft, dragging over his perineum and sac.

Tom moaned and squeezed his thighs together, trying to retract from the tortuous, yet pleasurable sensations.

“No, no, no.” Bill admonished in a soft tone, “I want you spread. Wide.”

Tom felt like his face was on fire as he whimpered pathetically, but moved his legs apart again. Bill patted the inside of his thigh, intoning, “Wider.”

“But, Bill..” Tom panted, his entire body churning with the wild sensations of hating, yet loving this.

“Wider.” Bill insisted, until Tom obeyed, parting his legs until his thigh muscles strained and an ache shot through his tight groin.

“Good,” Bill praised, and his fingers went back in, pumping quicker now. Even the two of them felt sizable inside of Tom's tight channel and Tom pressed his face into the pillow as Bill slowly pried him open. It was a long moment before Bill pulled his hand back to apply lube to his third finger.

“Bill, please...” Tom was panting and sweating now as Bill's fingers traced back down his cleft before slipping back into him, only the two at first, before he felt the third stretch him. He gasped, his body arching away, his fingers clawing at the sheets as Bill pressed them all in. “Fuck, please!” Tom cried, although he wasn't sure what he was crying for – for Bill to stop, or continue.

Bill grabbed his hip and dragged him back, seating him firmly on his fingers. Tom groaned as Bill's long fingers reached for his prostate, giving the little bit of flesh a teasing stroke. He jerked back this time, nearly sitting back on his heels to get Bill's fingers closer to that pleasure spot. Bill pulled his fingers back and Tom moaned, falling back onto his face on the bed.

“Bill, please..” He murmured into the sheets. He was aroused and strung tight with need, and he fucking wanted this, whether he liked it or not.

Bill pushed his three fingers back in, starting slow at first, before his rhythm gradually went faster and faster, until he was knifing his fingers into Tom hard and quick. Tom cried out, his body twitching and jerking every time Bill touched his prostate.

His body was aching and he was gaping open under Bill's determined hand, but when Bill pulled his hand back, Tom had a feeling that he wasn't done.

He lay against the sheets, panting and sweating, trying to catch his breath until Bill touched him again. He glanced down his body, finding himself terribly aroused, his cock a dusky color, leaking pre-cum everywhere. The needy sight of it made him want to reach down and touch himself, to relieve the pressure. Typically by the time he got this worked up, he was getting ready to slam into Bill's hot, tight little ass and drive them both to edge... But Bill had different plans tonight, and as he stated, he was not the bitch... Tom was, and he was going to take it just how Bill wanted to give it.

Bill's fingers returned and Tom wanted to cry, just out of frustration. He had known from the beginning that Bill was going to drag this out to bring him to the highest point of humiliation and arousal.

Bill pushed two fingers into him and Tom moaned.

Two steps forward and two steps fucking backward. Bill really wanted to torture him.

They felt smaller compared to the three and Tom pushed his ass back towards Bill, trying to get him to move forward with the foreplay.

“You want my fingers?” Bill asked teasingly, and Tom wanted to turn around and punch him in his pretty mouth. _No,_ he thought rebelliously, _I want to fuck your ass._

“Nngg...” Tom moaned into the sheets, not quite a yes, but not quite a no either.

Bill pumped his two fingers into him, saying sweetly, “Ask me for my fingers, Tomi.”

“Fuck you.” Tom ground out.

“Mmm, don't you wish.” Bill said, and Tom took sections of the sheets in his hand, squeezing them so tight that his knuckles blanched. Meanwhile, Bill's fingers continued to tease inside of him, sometimes going fast, sometimes going slow. At last, Tom couldn't handle it and he burst out, “Bill, please!”

“Please what?” Bill asked.

“Please...” Tom panted, grinding his forehead into the pillow, “Please... want your... your fingers.”

“Good.” Bill murmured, and immediately reward Tom with his third finger again. He pressed it in deep and Tom felt himself squeeze, an ache resounding through him. He was tighter than before with tension and Bill's taunting and he was so worked up that he was sure he would come on the spot if Bill laid even so much as a finger on his cock.

“Bill, please...” He moaned as his twin pumped his fingers into him.

“Hmm?” Bill asked.

“Please...” Tom whined. “Please, I can't...”

“You can, and you're going to.” Bill said firmly.

Tom moaned and pressed his face against the mattress, wondering why Bill had to do this every time. He loved putting Tom on his face and fingering him until he physically or mentally couldn't take it anymore. It felt like every time, it went on longer and longer, and Bill got more an more fingers in him.

Bill's fingers left him but Tom knew better than to relax, especially after what he had just said. Bill had gotten four fingers into him last time and that meant that he was going to do it again this time.

Tom bit his lower lip and tried keep his muscles lax as Bill slicked his fingers, all the way up to his knuckles and the back of his hand.

When his hand returned, his slipped three in first, giving a few languid pumps before adding the fourth. Tom's mouth stretched open as Bill's fingers and then his knuckles pushed into him, only his thumb and the lower part of his hand not inside Tom's body. It ached and made his strain, but it felt so damn good at the same time.

Tom moaned out in a long, tortured sound as Bill's fingers touched him deep inside. They had gotten this far the last time, and Tom hadn't been able to take it. This time, he moaned and arched back onto Bill's hand.

“You wanna open more for me, hmm?” Bill asked, stroking a hand down Tom's side, laying a kiss on his lower back. The soft touches made Tom quiver, and his body spasmed a few times around Bill's embedded hand, clinching tight before releasing.

“Nnng..” He groaned out. His eyes were squeezed and he was biting his lip almost hard enough to make himself bleed.

Bill's fingers moved inside him a little, testing his resistance. They pumped into him a few times, his knuckles sliding slickly in and out on the abundance of lube that Bill applied.

Tom moaned as Bill's fingers rubbed over his prostate, and the pleasure ratcheted higher. He gasped as Bill fingers moved a little quicker. He tensed, sure that he was about to come for a moment with most of Bill's hand in his ass.

Bill back off, however, and Tom dropped the mattress again, groaning, his body still taut with desire and longing.

“Bill, please...” He moaned, “Please...let me...”

“Not yet.” Bill murmured and he heard him open the lube again.

_Fuck no!_ Tom's mind screamed, but his body could only quiver. He lay weakly on the bed, his ass still raised up as Bill lubed, his thumb, the last digit still outside of his body and tucked against his palm. 

Tom almost screamed, a shock of pain going through him as Bill fit his thumb into him, and the widest part of his hand entered him. For a few seconds, he thought he might faint or just die before he felt Bill's hand form a fist inside him and he closed around Bill' s wrist, and the pleasure crashed over him.

“Fuck, shit, fuck...” He panted over and over again as Bill's fist pulsed gently inside him. Pleasure suddenly flooded his senses, so fast he couldn't think to react, even try to hold back and stop it. The waves of orgasm ripped through his ass first, ravaging that region in a way that Tom had never felt before. The desire suddenly translated to his cock and he felt like he was coming all over again as his body rose up. His stomach clenched up this time, his cock pulsing and twitching before he cried out raggedly, coming across the sheets. The orgasm shook him for a few long moment, before depositing him in a weak, used, boneless heap.

He panted weakly as he sank to the sheets.

Behind him, Bill urged his legs back apart and gently removed his hand. Tom moaned softly as his body was finally relieved. Everything was throbbing, an undercurrent of pain lying beneath the crashing waves of pleasure.

Bill quietly left the bed and Tom heard him go to the bathroom to wash his hands. Tom took the few moments to catch his breath, but he was far behind. Bill seemed to have stolen that particular body function right at the beginning of the encounter.

Tom bit his lower lip as he slowly realized what Bill had just done to him... what he was no doubt going to do again sometime in the future. He lifted his own hand, so much like Bill's, and examined it, forming a fist and cringing at the size of it.

Bill returned to bed and glancing over Tom could see that he was still fully aroused, his cock standing up almost straight, a pearly bead of pre-cum crowning his head.

Bill sat down at the head of the bed against some pillows and patted Tom on the head, “Come here.” He murmured.

Tom looked over at Bill with wide, pleading eyes. “But, can't you just...” He whispered, glancing at Bill's cock.

“No.” Bill simply. “Bring that pretty mouth of yours over here.”

Tom bit at his lip bolt and slowly dragged himself between Bill's legs. Bill laid a hand on his head, and pulled him close. The hot, engorged flesh rubbed against Tom's cheek and he turned away, his face heating once more.

It was different when he went down on Bill of his own accord. When Bill dominated him and made him do it, it seemed so much more humiliating. He could suck Bill's cock and still call himself a man when he shoved into his brother's tight little ass and made him scream. This was different... This was Tom Kaulitz, God's gift to women, being the bitch.

“Come here.” Bill repeated in a firmer tone, dragging Tom's face back to his leaking cock. “Open your mouth.”

Tom slowly did as he was told and Bill directed his cock into his mouth, sighing out in pleasure as he sank into the hot embrace. His hand stayed at Tom's head, guiding him as Tom's mouth began bob over his cock.

“Yes, suck it, baby,” He rasped, his hips undulating up against Tom's mouth, pushing his cock in and out.

Tom could taste Bill's pre-cum on his tongue, the sharp taste and heady smell filling his head. His stomach began to twirl with desire again, and although he realized that there wouldn't be a moment where he would top the entire night, he still wanted Bill. He closed his eyes and sucked down on him, imagining that Bill would fall apart under his grasp and he then he would rise up, flip him over, and make Bill put his ass up from Tom's cock.

Tom dragged his mouth all over Bill's cock, using his hand to jack the base as he used his lips and tongue on the madly throbbing head, licking up pre-cum and teasing foreskin in a way that he knew drove Bill crazy.

Bill moaned and began to pant above him, his fingers sinking into Tom's hair and tugging hard. Pre-cum swelled on Tom's tongue again and Bill moaned, pulling him back away from his wet, throbbing cock. He gazed down at Tom with hazy eyes, “Yes, oh... fuck, that's good.” He whispered, breathlessly. Tom tried to move his head down towards Bill's cock again, because he wanted to make him cum so he would be too weak to fuck him. Bill head him back again, smiling that little smile as he shook his head, “No, no, Tom.”

Tom sighed and lowered his head, resting it against Bill's thigh. He was so fucking done with that argument and Bill was still making him pay.

“You're the not the bitch til you've taken it up the ass.” Bill said, patting his head, “On your back.”

Tom could practically feel his face twisting into a pout, but he went, flopping himself onto his back with a heavy sigh.

“Don't be dramatic, Tom.” Bill advised, grabbing the lube again. He got between Tom's legs and smiled as he drew a hand over Tom's growing erection. “See, there we go.”

Tom looked away, and pulled his legs up before Bill could tell him to do it in some erotic, humiliating tone of voice.

“Good.” Bill murmured, slicking his cock with the lube. He rubbed a little down between Tom's buttocks, but he was still fairly wet and open from the fisting. “I'll go easy on you.” Bill murmured, and Tom nodded, because he knew Bill was being sincere about that.

Bill leaned over him and Tom felt Bill's cock nudge between his buttocks. He took in a breath and let it out slowly as Bill entered him. His eyes closed as Bill's cock first made it ache and then quiver with pleasure. He took him in all the way, easier than his hand and he heard Bill expel a sound of pleasure. Tom smiled a little, knowing that his little brother probably wasn't going to last long.

Bill braced both of his arms on either side of Tom, his hips beginning to sway against Tom's ass. Tom bit back a moan as Bill immediately went to his pleasure spot, grinding his hips down in a way that touched him all the right places.

“Look at me.” Bill murmured, lifting his hand from the mattress for a moment to guide Tom's eyes back to his. Tom looked up at Bill and their eyes locked on. Bill smiled, whispering almost too quiet to hear, “I love you.”

Tom bit his lower lip, hesitating for only a moment before mouthing back, “Love you too.”

Bill's return smile turned into a grimace as a wave of pleasure seized him. Tom wrapped his legs around Bill's waist and drew him closer, closing his eyes again as they both went for the orgasm.

He felt Bill drawing close first, riding against his prostate the whole way in a horribly, amazing sensation. He exploded there, his cum rushing over the tender flesh in a hot flood. Tom moaned, reaching down to grab his own spasming cock. He squeezed hard, rubbing quickly at the flesh to urge himself closer to a second orgasm. The first had been so all-consuming and mind-blowing, but this time, it felt even better with Bill in him – something he would never admit aloud.

Tom came, spraying cum over the both of them, spattering their stomachs and chests. Tom watched it fleck Bill's long, beautiful neck before descending into post-orgasmic bliss.

They settled together on the sheets, a panting, sweating heap.

Bill lifted his head at last, and his face was beaming, “I love you.” He repeated.

Tom made a sound of disgust. “Why? Because I let you put your hand in my ass?”  
“No,” Bill shook his, then shrugged, “Well, maybe. But you just always know what I need.”

Tom shot him a frown, “We were fighting.”

“I know.” Bill sighed. “And that was my fault. I've just been so frustrated lately with everything with the album, and how long its taking...”  
“So making me the bitch makes you feel better?” Tom asked.

“Doesn't it make you feel better when you top?” Bill asks. “I may take it a lot, Tom, but sometimes I need this too.”

Tom chewed his lower lip before shrugging at last.

They didn't say anything else and Bill snuggled down against his chest, content to let Tom cuddle him now that he was done. He drifted into sleep, and Tom was not far behind, but he was already dreaming – dreaming that the next time it would be Bill would be the bitch for the night.

 


End file.
